


Sensitive

by niceasspavus



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ASMR, Anal Sex, BaekXing, Dry Orgasm, Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Scratching, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Synaesthesia, comfort (sort of), lowkey crying during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8617069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niceasspavus/pseuds/niceasspavus
Summary: Oneshot backstage Baekxing with bonus accidental Yixing/EXO.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yibaek (sparkinski)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkinski/gifts).



Baekhyun turns the lock on the dressing room door.

_Fingers grazing his ass. A gentle little chuckle over the noise of the monitors. He wills himself not to look, but he can’t resist the smirks he always knows are waiting. He feels the effect of those smug lips deep in his lungs, his belly, his crotch._

Yixing has him up against the door in half a breath, plump mouth moving in messy harmony with Baekhyun’s, nostrils flared and tendons taut. 

_Junmyeon’s addressing the crowd. Yixing hides his wandering hand behind Baekhyun’s fidgeting body. A finger hooks in one of his belt loops, and tugs. An innocent gesture, just in case anyone still sees, but he knows what it means as surely as he knows Yixing’s half-erect dick pressed casually against his leg. “You are mine. Mine.”_

Yixing makes to lift Baekhyun’s shirt, but he’s already in a state of heavy-lidded desperation, and Baekhyun easily swats his hands away. They don’t have time for that. This isn’t going to be sweet. This isn’t going to be romantic. It’s going to be the hard, raw fuck they were both imagining out on that stage.

Baekhyun leads him, spins him, bends him over the back of the couch facing the brightly lit mirrors, where Yixing’s lust-darkened eyes reflect back at the both of them. Long fingers work at the straps and clasps securing the battery pack, the cords. Everything is discarded unceremoniously on the floor before Baekhyun unbuttons, then unzips, Yixing’s form-fucking-fitting leather pants and pushes them breathlessly to his knees.

“Hyung, do you have-?”

“Coat pocket, coat pocket.”

Baekhyun springs across the room. “I can’t find-”

“Inside pocket! Inside pocket!”

“Ah! Okay. Got it.”

“Hurry, my Baekhyun-ah, hurry.”

“I’m hurrying!”

Baekhyun returns to him, ungraciously kicking off his own shoes and trousers on the way, a tiny tube and foil packet in hand. Yixing is giggling. Despite the inconvenient necessity of urgency, they enjoy this part - the secrecy, the scramble, the mind-blinding need to fuck.

Baekhyun is squeezing lube into his palm, eyes on the bare ass before him. “You’re so fucking perfect, what the _fuck_.”

“Baekhyun-ah. Hurry hurry.”

“I am, gege, I am.” 

Yixing flinches when the cold gel meets his ass, but immediately pushes back against Baekhyun’s slender fingers. “Oh, god, yes.” His teeth flash under the lights. “Fuck me.” White-knuckled and clench-jawed, Yixing is already shaking with anticipation. Baekhyun presses one finger inside of him and he squirms eagerly. Yixing throws a heady look over his shoulder. “Fuck me, baby.” He grunts when Baekhyun gives him more, moans when Baekhyun uses his spare hand to tease at Yixing’s heavy erection, gasps when Baekhyun starts scissoring him wider, wider.

“You’re so gorgeous, hyung. How the fuck are you so gorgeous? God, you’re hot. I’m lucky. Shit.”

“H-hurry.” Yixing stifles the whine in his throat when Baekhyun eases his fingers away to roll the condom on. He sets his cock at Yixing’s entrance, applies lube to it like icing on a cake, and slides inside of him.

Yixing is a passionate lover, unused to passivity, his impatience for bottoming surpassed only by his unfortunately frequent need to get really, really well fucked. The moment Baekhyun’s dick is up his ass, he’s pounding a fist against the armrest, tossing his bangs out of his eyes like a bull in heat, bucking and growling and encouraging whatever unholy wreckage Baekhyun has planned in whichever way he can. 

Wreck him he does. Manicured nails leave raised, red marks in the skin of Yixing’s thighs. Long pretty fingers in his mouth leave him wet-chinned and gagging. Baekhyun fucks him mindlessly. Yixing gets fucked mindlessly. Animals, lewd, grunting and groaning as quietly as they can manage, frenzied and messy like it’s the last fuck they’ll ever have on god’s green earth.

Yixing’s high, lilting moans escalate when Baekhyun relentlessly besets his prostate with measured thrusts. Baekhyun coils his fingers into sweat-dampened curls and lifts Yixing’s gaze, forcing him to watch the thorough fucking taking place in the mirror in front of them. He clenches around Baekhyun’s cock and sobs at the sight of his immaculate self. Tears cut through the sheen of his skin, trailing black makeup across his face like filthy tributaries.

He comes untouched, spilling spectacularly over the black leather. Yixing’s broken gasps lead Baekhyun to climax, and they collapse in a sticky, loving mess over the armrest. 

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Baekhyun is wiping up their mess with a paper towel soaked in alcohol solution from the makeup counter when he hears the click at the door. He and Yixing exchange alarmed, nervous grins.

“Huh? It’s locked. Baekhyunnie? Are you in there?

“I’m here!”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Coming, coming.” Baekhyun discards the towel, pulls his pants on, and fixes his hair breathlessly in the mirror, but there’s nothing to be done for Yixing’s flushed, smudged face and red-rimmed eyes.

The others funnel in, concerned faces locking on Yixing, who has ostensibly been crying. 

“Whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Hyung, are you okay?”

“Should we call for a doctor?”

“Don’t,” says Baekhyun, patting Yixing on the knee with the familiarity of a best friend. “He’s fine. He, um. Just got a call after the set. That’s why we left so quick. Sorry, guys.”

“It’s okay!”

“A call?”

“As long as hyung’s not hurt.”

When Yixing speaks, his voice is raw and hoarse from moaning. “I’m fine,” he affirms from behind his hand, where he’s hiding his amusement. He feels drowsy, well-fucked, and careless. Part of him is bored of the subterfuge, the sneaking around, the sloppy cover-ups whenever somebody happens upon them post-fuck. He lets his eyes fall shut while Baekhyun constructs an elaborate fiction to explain his tears. Yixing doesn’t hear much but the concerned coos of his bandmates.

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Tell Manager-hyung that gege just wants to be alone with us for a little while.” Yixing glints at Baekhyun through one eye. Baekhyun smiles back angelically. 

They shuffle around him. Baekhyun, perched on the armrest like a satisfied cat, strokes the nape of Yixing’s sensitive neck with one long, tapered finger. Another hand is petting his hair. Another is comfortingly rubbing his thigh. Another is drawing circles into his back. Jongdae’s voice is rumbling soothingly in his ear. Already buzzing in the afterglow, Yixing feels as if he’s stepped into a sleepy, warm, colourful dream. Transcendental. Limbless. His skin is tingling. His blood is tingling. He’s champagne, condensation on the glass, bubbles tickling his skull. Every touch, every murmur, every breath is a pair of lips on his senses, affectionate, adoring, reverent, whispering their way up every inch of him. Pleasure washes over him, a rainbow, a waterfall, an overture, a brush of wings. And then he’s a heartbeat, and nothing more.

Yixing’s eyelids flutter and he tosses his head back against the couch. A little breathy whimper sounds from his swollen lips as he comes a second time, dry, swept over the edge by the gentle attentions of eight immaculate boys.

Blurs. Hushed little noises. It’s hard to concentrate, so he decides not too. His pelvis is exquisitely warm and throbbing with the aftershocks of two orgasms. When he next opens his eyes, he’s alone again with Baekhyun in the dressing room. Baekhyun is lit up with mischievous glee.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“That was interesting.”

“Mm.” Yixing, disheveled, blissed out, attempts a longer sentence. “Enjoy it, did you?

Baekhyun cackles, pets his hair. “Uh huh. Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Has that happened before?”

“Once or twice. Never quite like that.”

“Gosh. You’re fun.” 

Yixing tugs on his belt loop and gives him a little kitten smile.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! corrections/cc welcome.


End file.
